Teach Me Your Ways
by YoungItalianAndReckless
Summary: Temperance Gray has always known that she would one day be a teacher and that it would most likely keep her within a small close knit community, what she hadn't anticipated was falling in love with the brusque, blunt "Lord" of the manor. He probably didn't expect to fall in love with the book-smart, nervous schoolmarm, but what does she have hidden behind that weak facade?
1. Prologue

**I hope you enjoy my new story.**

**A/N: I do not own anything except my OCs.**

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Prologue:

November 18, 1780

A young woman with long, wavy, golden hair stood in her shift and her linen stockings, brushing out her hair slowly as she looked into the full-length mirror. She slowly braided her hair, then fashioned it in a plain knot at the nape of her neck. She sighed softly and tied on her stays tightly. When her sister had still been living with her, they had helped each other put on their stays, but now that her older sister was married and living on a farm, she was alone to try to tie them off. She tied her pocket about her waist, carefully placing her purse inside it before putting on her linen underpetticoat over it. Next came her cotton petticoat, a soft blue that was almost the same shade as the sky, then her white bonnet that she tied in a bow under her chin. Her gown, the same blue as her petticoat, hugged her body to just above her hips, then flared out to the floor. She tied on her neckerchief and her brightly white apron, then her buckled shoes.

It was a pain to get dressed, she decided for the umpteenth time, but she knew she would repeat the routine again the next day. She sighed, picking up her carpetbag, tying on her cloak and straw hat before leaving the room she had let for the night. She paid for a meagre hot breakfast, then left to board a carriage to go to a place called the Davenport Homestead. Her aunt and uncle, Corrine and Oliver Bradford, had asked her to come stay with them while she was still looking for a new position. It had been a kind offer, of course, and she had been loathe to accept it, but circumstances had prompted her to change her mind. To get from Boston to the homestead, it took three days, stopping in Lexington, Concord, and Monmouth to drop off other passengers. By the time they crossed onto Davenport land, night had fallen on the third day and she was the only one left in the carriage.

"Davenport's Homestead, Mile's End," the driver called. She stood, took a deep breath, then stepped out of the carriage.

"Tempy!" Corrine exclaimed, rushing to envelope the young woman in a tight hug. "Oh, you look exhausted, poor dear."

"I'm only a bit on the tired side, Aunt Corrine," she said with a soft smile. "Oh, no, Uncle Oliver, I can carry by bag."

"Nonsense, you silly girl, I can carry your carpetbag for you," he said with a laugh as he hefted her bag over his shoulder. "Besides you're much too tired to be able to carry this heavy, old thing."

Tempy laughed softly, holding her aunt's arm as she led the way into the Inn and the driver carried in her trunk. "Is your inn closed, Aunt Corrine? It's hardly nigh on eight o' clock."

"Aye, we closed up the bar so we could talk to you without having to stop to tend to the general public," Uncle Oliver replied with a sly wink before going upstairs to lead the carriage driver to her room and drop off the carpetbag.

"You didn't have to do that for me," Tempy protested, pressing her lips together. "I would have been happy to wait until morning to have a proper conversation."

"Aye, you would have been been happy to wait, but we wouldn't, dear," Aunt Corrine replied, smiling as she poured a mug of ale for each of the three. "Now, how was your trip, m'dear?"

"It was long and I'm glad to see friendly, familiar faces," she replied with a soft laugh.

"I bet you are, m'dear. You never were one for strangers, were you?" Uncle Oliver said when he came back downstairs, holding the door for the carriage driver. Tempy shook her head, sipping her ale. "Then it's no wonder you didn't enjoy your austere trip in the carriage."

Tempy giggled softly at her uncle's sarcasm as he joined them at the bar. It wasn't more than a few moments before there was a knock on the door. "I thought you said you were closed, Uncle."

"I am," he chortled, standing to open the door. A tall, broad, dark-skinned man stood in the doorway. "Well, hello, Connor! I'm sorry to turn you away, but we're closed up for the night."

"I know, I'll only need a moment of your time. Have you seen Donald and Douglas? Terry and Diana have been looking for them since just before sunset," the man said, his dark eyes trained on Oliver.

"I'm sorry to say we haven't, Connor."

"We can help look for them," Tempy said, standing and placing her mug on the bar.

"Oh, Tempy, you've only just gotten here, you must be bone tired!" Aunt Corrine exclaimed, placing a hand on Tempy's shoulder.

"It is part of my profession to worry about children, Aunt, that doesn't stop because I don't hold a position currently," she said, smiling as she tied her cloak back on and walked to the door. "You two stay here and have some strong tea waiting for me when I come back."

"Are you sure?" the man named Connor asked, looking her up and down.

"I am quite sure I can handle a search, sir," she said, raising an eyebrow before brushing past him. "Now, we must be off unless you'd like to never find the boys."

The man led her to the boys' home where the two parents stood bereft. "Have you ever tracked before?" the man asked, frowning at her.

Tempy ignored his doubt as she moved around the edge of the small clearing surrounding the home, not caring that he seemed to have other ideas as he went in another direction. She found a few footprints on the east side of the clearing and followed them slowly toward a river. There she found more footprints going upriver, a few indicated that at least one or both of the boys had slipped in the mud. The slipping seemed to get more frequent which didn't bode well in Tempy's mind.

"Help! Help someone!" a boy's voice called. Tempy gathered up her skirts and ran toward the voice, far enough from the bank that she herself wouldn't slip into the angry water. She rounded the bend and saw one little boy kneeling beside another that lay on the ground. "Miss! Miss, please help!"

Tempy ran over to the boys and knelt beside them. "What happened?" she asked gently.

"Donald and I was runnin' by the river and 'e slipped in. I got 'im out, but 'e's so cold and his leg's all crooked and I couldnae get him to open his eyes. Please, Pa will be furious at me," Douglas explained quickly, his eyes wide with fright.

Tempy nodded, pulling her cloak off and wrapped it around Donald. "Can you help me, Douglas? We have to help him stand and get him back to your house, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Douglas said, putting a shoulder under his twin's arm while Tempy did the same on the other side, making sure to keep the weight off the boy's broken leg.

"You're being so brave for your brother, Douglas, I'm proud of you," Tempy said as they drew near to the boys' house.

"Thanks kindly, Miss," the boy murmured back. "Ma? Pa?"

A red-headed man and woman ran out of the house and toward the trio. "Douglas! What happened to Donald? Thank you so much, Miss!"

"'Twas nothing, truly," Tempy said as the father took the boy into his arms. "His leg's broken and he got a bit of a chill; I'll send for a doctor, if that's alright."

"Yes, please, thank you!" the mother exclaimed. Tempy nodded, turning and running back to the inn.

"Aunt Corrine, Uncle Oliver? The doctor needs to be sent over to Terry and Diana's," she said, breathlessly, clutching a stitch in her side.

"I'll go to him," Oliver said, grabbing a coat and going out the door.

"Now, let's us get you to bed, my dear niece; you must be dreadful tired after your adventures," Corrine murmured, leading Tempy upstairs to her room.

"Thank you, Aunt Corrine. I'll see you in the morning," Tempy murmured, smiling at her aunt before shutting the door. She was so tired at this point that she just lay down on the bed without taking her clothes off. This decision was one that Tempy regretted immediately the next morning when she awake to sore ribs.

"Good morning, Tempy, dear!" Corrine exclaimed as she bustled into Tempy's room bright and early the next morning, carrying breakfast on a platter. "Eat up! Connor's keen to be meeting you."

"Connor? That man from last night?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, dear. He wanted to thank you for your help finding those two boys."

Tempy sighed, sipping the tea and eating most of the porridge. Once she ate what she wanted, she got out of bed and changed into a dull, gray everyday dress. She smoothed her hair back into order, then went downstairs to see the man she had briefly met sitting at her uncle's bar, talking to her aunt and uncle.

"Good morning, Aunt Corrine and Uncle Oliver. Good morning, Mr. Connor," she said, curtsying to Connor.

"Please, just call me Connor, Miss Gray. I wanted to thank you for finding the boys last night. I know you must have been tired after your long trip here," the man said after an almost awkward moment of silence, standing and smiling slightly at Tempy.

"Please, call me Temperance and it was nothing, truly. I was happy to do it."

"You mentioned last night that your profession involved children?"

"Yes, I'm a teacher. In between positions, but I still do what I can to help with children."

"We don't currently have a school teacher or a school at all, but if we built it, would you be willing to fill that position?"

"I would be thrilled to take the position," Tempy said with a broad smile. "As long as I have a school to teach in and desks for the children to sit in, of course."

"We will start work on the school house immediately, Tempy," Connor said as he shook her hand warmly.

"Thank you, Connor," she said, smiling down at her feet.

She heard the man leave the bar and she looked up at her aunt and uncle, her grin mirrored on their faces. "You know the two boys you met last night and one more, small boy child are about all we have on the homestead, don't you, dear?"

"Parents may send their children here even if they are far away, Corinne," Oliver chided, smiling. "Our Tempy is quite the teacher after all."

Tempy laughed softly. "I think I'll go read outside...I've had enough of four walls, a floor and a ceiling," she said, going back upstairs to grab one of the many books she had brought with her. "I will be back for noon meal."

"Do be careful, dear, there are wolves in our woods," Aunt Corrine called as Tempy grabbed her cloak and went out the door.

*Connor POV*

Connor sat in the fork of a tree, his mind wandering back to the Inn he had just left and the young woman named Temperance who now resided within its walls. He hadn't gotten a very good look at her the night before as she had kept her head down and hood up, but when she came down stairs that morning, he had seen her heart-shaped face with her wide, gray blue eyes dominating one's attention. Her nose had been dainty and slightly upturned, her lips curved like a bow, her cheeks flushed with life. It had taken all he was to not stare and have a normal conversation with those eyes watching him.

He mentally shook himself; it wasn't like him to spend any time whatsoever thinking about a woman when he had other things to think about, things that should more readily take up his thoughts. So besotted with this woman was he that he could almost see her in his mind's eyes walking below him to take a seat on a stump with a book in her hands. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him that brought forth the image of Temperance, but the actual figure herself sitting below him, reading. That the object of his thoughts should so readily appear before him gave him the thought that he should speak to her; afterall, she would soon be the schoolmarm in the community he had built.

"Hello, Temperance," he said after jumping out of the tree. Rather than startling as he had expected of her, she merely looked up from the page she was reading, a small, measured smile curling her lips.

"Hello, Connor. Have I disturbed your private thoughts?" she asked, placing a scrap of ribbon between the pages of her book. "It seemed a quiet clearing or I'd have found another place to escape with Miss Flanders."

"No, no. It is a quiet clearing, as good a place as any for reading or thinking," Connor replied. "What are you reading?"

"Ah, _The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders_ by Daniel Defoe. I don't really believe Mr. Defoe has ever actually spoken to a woman though, based on how he wrote the character of Miss Flanders," she said, her eyes on the book. "I am sorry, I tend to ramble when it comes to books."

"It is fine, it must be a good book if you have read it enough to come up with critiques," he replied, settling himself on the grass in front of her. "Could you read it to me?"

He might have laughed at her startled expression had he not truly wanted her to read. "Y-yes, of course," she murmured, looking down at her book. She flipped back to the beginning. "_My true name is so well known in the records or registers at Newgate, and in the Old Bailey, and there are some things of such consequence still depending there..._"

They sat like this for hours, Connor listening to her soft, lyrical voice bring the world of Moll Flanders to life, not stopping until Tempy glanced up at the sky and stood suddenly.

"Is something the matter?" asked he.

"I told my aunt I would be back by noon and now it is three hours past," she returned, searching her her ribbon bookmark. "I'm sorry to leave so suddenly."

"Do not worry, we will continue at a later date."

Her smile was one that would haunt Connor in his dreams, but he couldn't wait to see it again as he watched its owner scurry away through the woods back to the Inn. He watched until he could no longer see her, then stayed in that spot, remembering every precious word she said as she read.

As he began to go on his way back to the manor he was staying in, his thoughts turned to the task that, previous to the arrival of Miss Temperance Gray, had overtaken his thoughts entirely: the dismantlement of the Templar Order. Only two men remained for Connor to deal with: Charles Lee, a dastardly man whose only aim was to take control of the colonies, and Haytham Kenway, Connor's father. He tried to reason that if he killed Charles Lee first, he may not have to kill his father at all and the two could live in peace, but Achilles, his mentor, had told him it would never work, that Haytham would always look for a way to bring the Templar Order back. Though he was loathe to admit it, Connor knew this to be true.

He only hoped that whatever happened didn't affect his little community here. He had been surprised at how quickly the homestead had grown in the past decade, but pleased by it all the same. There were farmers, a carpenter, a hunter, a miner, two innkeepers, lumberers, a cooper, a tailor, a doctor, and even a parson, but never once had Connor even thought about needing a teacher for the children. That Miss Gray had been brought to the homestead at a most opportune time and that she was in need of a teaching position, had been fate deciding that a teacher was most definitely needed here.

People always seemed to come to the homestead just when they are needed and they always seem so happy to be there. Connor had always been coming and going and therefore never saw what the others did when they walked from house to house. The atmosphere surrounding the people in the small community was one of friendship and camaraderie and Connor found that he rather enjoyed the thought of people working together to make this small place better. Once all threat of the Templar Order had been removed, the homestead would be all the more safe.

He had been looking for a way to kill Charles Lee for the past two years, but had done so from the comfort of his home, keeping his head down and out of the line of fire. His father had always been a deciding factor because, despite his promise to Achilles, he truly did not want to kill the man. However, he did feel that the time was drawing nearer for him to forge and execute a plan for the assassination of Charles Lee.

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**Well? What do y'all think? Please R&amp;R...it makes me happy to see what y'all think.**

**You are all so, so amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come.**


	2. Chapter 1

**There we go, nice and fun. I hope y'all enjoy this new chapter.**

**A/N: I do not own anything except my OCs.**

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Chapter One:

October 8, 1782

"You know this, Hunter, I know you do. Three added to five is...?" Tempy prompted, crouching beside the eight year old's desk.

"E-Eight?" the boy asked, looking up at her from his black board. Tempy smiled encouragingly and the boy proudly wrote the number down.

"Good job, Hunter. You run on home to your parents, now," she murmured, smiling as she took the board and chalk from watched him until he was only a dot on the horizon, then started cleaning the board at the front of the classroom.

The past two years had flown by and Tempy had enjoyed every moment. Building the schoolhouse had had to wait until after winter had loosed its grip on the small community. They had even built her a small house beside so she didn't have to stay at the Mile's End. It was truly a beautiful little schoolhouse, right down to the whitewash the townspeople had used to paint it with. There were four rows of desks with six desks in each row and an aisle down the middle that led straight to the big chalkboard at the front. Off to the right was her desk, a larger version of those the students sat in. On her desk currently sat a small vase filled with pink and blue asters which her students kept in good supply for her.

"Tempy? Tempy, are you still in here?" a familiar voice called from outside the schoolhouse.

"Yes, Myriam, I'm still in here," she replied, dusting her hands on her soft brown dress and walking toward the doorway.

"Why on earth do you insist on staying so long afterward?" asked the brunette woman as she lingered just outside.

"Some students need some help and I'm happy to give it, regardless of what I may like to be doing."

Myriam just laughed, walking with the school teacher toward the Mile's End. "Did ya hear that Connor's just come back today?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

Connor. Even the name sent shivers racing down Tempy's back. Soon after the grand opening of the school, the mysterious man had disappeared to God knew where and, strangely enough, the longer he was absent from the homestead, the more she thought of him. She had never bothered herself with men before as no man had ever bothered himself with her, but this particular man's unmerited attention the day he offered to build her a school had been enough to set her heart racing now years later.

"No, I have not heard that," Tempy replied carefully, her hand clasped in front of her. "Does anyone know where he's been?"

"No, and that's the weird part! He showed up all beat up and with his hair cut off. No one knows what happened," Myriam murmured, catching Tempy looking worriedly toward the old manor. "Now, don't look so concerned, teacher, probably just a bad scrape with a bear or somesuch."

Tempy smiled, nodding. "I suppose worrying won't do any good," she murmured back, looking back at the ground.

"What about that gentleman you told me about? The one you said you hadn't seen for a long time? Have you heard from him?"

"Since yesterday? I'm afraid not, Myriam; the post doesn't tend to work like that. Nor, does it seem, does fate."

"Who knows? He might come by soon," Myriam teased, smiling at her friend.

"That'll happen no sooner than you and Norris having a child," Tempy teased back, looking up.

"Well...that's something I wanted to talk to you about..."

"No! Myriam, that's so wonderful!" Tempy exclaimed, stopping and turning to embrace her friend. "Have you told Norris?"

"No, I found it was easier to tell another woman first," Myriam murmured, a hand on her still flat stomach. "I don't know how to tell him."

"I've a grand idea. Here's what you'll say: 'Norris, I hope you plan to do right by me as I am carrying your progeny.' What say you to that?"

"I say he's already done right by me and don't neither of us know what 'progeny' means, Miss Hoity-Toity," Myriam teased.

"Ah, I do suppose he has, hasn't he? And progeny just means his child."

"I don't know why you insist on using all them big words; you are probably the on'y one who knows what they mean," Myriam said. Silence stretched between them for a few moments. "Why do you, an educated woman, hang about the likes of me, Tempy? Why do you stay 'round here where you have to use smaller words when you know so many?"

"Because I prefer friends like you, who look at me as an equal, Myriam. You are a true friend," Tempy explained, smiling at her.

Myriam smiled, shaking her head. "I reckon you got hit on the head and have no idea what you're saying, but I'm glad you think that."

Tempy laughed softly, then stopped suddenly. "Blast! I'll see you later, Myriam; I've forgotten my hat at the school. Tell me all about it after you tell Norris, alright?" Myriam nodded, watching as the younger woman turned and started walking quickly back to the schoolhouse.

Tempy walked quickly back to the schoolhouse, unlocked opened, then shut and locked the door again before sliding down it and staring at the opposite wall. Her excuse had been a real one, but it had truly just been a way to find time to be alone. No one in the community seemed to understand her preference to be alone; indeed, sometimes she didn't understand it. Nevertheless, spending the whole day with her students was more than enough social interaction for her. Truly, she had only wanted time alone with her thoughts about what had been uncovered to her by Myriam.

Connor was back, that mysterious man that had stolen Tempy's, until then untouched, heart only to disappear without a backward glance. After that day, she had seen very little of him as he was no doubt busy and she had been going into town to visit her sister, Relief, or Leafy, as Tempy called her, as well as to buy a few things she would need when the schoolhouse was finished. Needless to say, there were no more reading sessions in the woods, nor any other form of communication. At first, this hadn't bothered Tempy at all as she was too busy and distracted to notice that her head had been turned. It wasn't until after Connor's presence was nowhere to be sensed on the homestead that the beginnings of heartsickness had taken hold.

It had been Leafy that noticed Tempy's sudden change in personality after he disappeared from the community. After a little prying, Tempy opened up to her older sister, a rush of blood turning her face a bright red and her hands wringing her handkerchief. Leafy had been full of advice as to how to attract and keep the attention of this man who Tempy had described, nameless and vague though it had been. The whole conversation had only deepened the blush that dominated her features. Now, after two years hiatus, this mystery man of hers had been reduced to a running joke between the two.

Her thoughts were brought sharply back to the present by a knock on the schoolhouse door. Why on earth would anyone choose to come here? There was no lantern currently lit in the room, nor had there been anyone about that could have seen Tempy walk in, or so she thought. She slowly stood, her hands shaking slightly at her sides.

"Who is it?" she called, not unlocking the door unless she was certain she knew what lay on the other side.

"Open the door, schoolmarm," a man's voice growled. "Open it or we'll break it down."

"Please, I do not wish for any harm to come to the school nor to myself. Leave peaceably else I'll scream and bring the whole of the homestead running," she replied, feeling her knees start to go weak.

The man laughs. "No way a little thing like you could scream that loud. Now, open the door before I count to ten. One...two...three...four...five..."

Tempy's body stills and her mind clears as each number falls on her ears as loud as the church bells. When she hears the man yell, "TEN!" She is ready, her hands up close to her face and her knees bent in a crouch. She heard a gun fire and felt a stinging pain in her shoulder, but she focused on watching the door crumple under the weight of the man who had spoken to her. He was big, almost bigger than Big Dave, the cooper, and he was followed by a slightly smaller man.

"Now, little lady, you're gonna be good for us and take your medicine quietly," the bigger man growled, advancing toward Tempy.

He lunged for her and she dodged his hand, stepping lightly away from him. He grunted and tried again to grab for her, but this time she grabbed his wrist, pulling him off-balance and throwing him to the ground. The other man walked up behind her, but she elbowed him once in the ribs, then his crotch. He falls to his knees with a soft groan. She turns in time to see the other man lunging at her again, she steps aside, allowing him to run headlong into the wall, knocking himself out. She smirks, shaking her head when she hears the other man trying to walk quietly toward her. She grabbed his wrist firmly when he attempted to grab her shoulder and she twisted it swiftly, hearing three satisfying pops as bones dislodged. He fell to his knees, cradling his hand as he looked up at her, leaving his neck vulnerable; she took the chance and punched him in the throat, feeling the satisfying crunch of delicate bones.

She huffs, dusting her hands on her dress before picking up the revolver one of the men must have dropped after they shot the door. Myriam refused to use guns when she hunted so the sound of gunfire not once, but twice in less than a fifteen minute interval would bring people running. She stepped out into the brisk night air and shot into the sky. Her arm fell back to her side and she began to shake again as she slid down the wall of the school, placing the pistol in her lap. She distantly heard people yelling and several pairs of booted feet running toward the schoolhouse, but she was more focused on the pain in her shoulder as blood stained her dress. Her eyelids were getting heavy just as a few men came into sight; she recognized the broad shoulders of Connor.

"H-help, please," she whispered just as the world faded into blackness.

*Connor*

When Temperance's body collapsed to the side, Connor rushed forward, scooping her up as though she weighed no more than a sack of flour. He saw the blood that covered her shoulder and the revolver that had slid to the ground beside her. He turned to the other townspeople that had come running to the schoolhouse at the sound of the second gunshot. They cleared a path so he could run toward Doctor White's; he had stayed near his clinic in case there were any injuries.

"Connor, is that Miss Gray?" the doctor asked when Connor knocked on his door.

"Yes, she was shot," the assassin replied worriedly, carrying her inside and laying her on the examination table.

The doctor nodded and began examining the wound, cutting away the fabric of the dress from her shoulder. Temperance whimpered softly when the doctor's gentle fingers prodded at the entry and slowly dislodged the ball. He then bandages her shoulder and puts her arm in a sling before turning to Connor, surprise crossing his features.

"You're still here! Well, I suppose that helps with getting her back to her home. Do you mind?" Doc White asked, glancing at the still unconscious Temperance.

"I don't mind," he murmured, walking over to the examination table and gently picking her up again. "Thank you."

Doctor White nodded and Connor turned and left the clinic, cradling Temperance as he walked toward her small home that stood beside the schoolhouse. When they were a few yards away, he heard gasp softly and looked down at her; she was staring up at him, shock and confusion evident in her expressive eyes. She bit her lower lip as though she were thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry you had to carry me all the way back here," she murmured as Connor carefully settled her on her feet.

"Do not worry about it, Temperance; it was my pleasure to be able to help you." She blushed lightly, looking down at the toes of her shoes which barely peeped out below the hem of her dress. "I will come check on you in the morning, if that is okay?"

"You don't have to, r-"

"I want to; you have given me quite a scare tonight."

"Okay, I will see you in the morning, then," she murmured, looking up through her long lashes. Connor smiled and backed away, only turning when he saw the door shut.

He made his way to the Mile's End and found Big Dave, Terry and Godfrey sitting close together, talking in low voices. They had been among those that had gone to rescue Temperance and would know the details of what was found inside the schoolhouse. He walked over and sat down at the table with them.

"Well? What was it that hurt our schoolteacher?" he asked, hunching forward.

"Two drifters, Connor. No one recognized 'em, but they had gotten one hell of a beating before we got there, that's for sure," Godfrey murmured, glancing at Terry.

"Miss Gray's too small to have done that kind of damage to not just one, but two men," Terry agreed. "You got there first, Connor; did ya see anyone running away from the schoolhouse?"  
"No, I just saw Temperance sitting against the schoolhouse...has someone been hanging around her recently that could have saved her only to leave when everyone else showed up?"

"No one but Myriam and she was in here until we all went to the schoolhouse," Big Dave answered.

"You don't think that maybe Miss Grey actually did that to those men, do ya? She seems like such a gentle soul," Terry exclaimed softly.

"People tend to surprise," Connor replied. "I'll ask her in the morning."

"What did the doc say about her shoulder?"

"Just that she needs to refrain from using her arm for a while."

The men stared grimly into their mugs, not speaking for several long moments before Connor pushed himself to his feet and said his goodbyes. He walked back to the manor, Temperance still dominating his thoughts. Though he had been absent from the homestead for more than a year, she had never been absent from his thoughts completely. She had been what kept him sane after his father's death and during his long search for Charles Lee.

It was more than strange to him how a woman he hardly knew could have such an effect on him; when he had heard the gunshot near the school, when he saw her slump to the ground with a soft plea for help, carrying her to the clinic, all of it had kept his heart pounding with the fear of losing her. It was silly, of course, that he should feel so worried about someone he hardly knew, but he just couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. When he got back to the manor, he went straight up to his room, wondering if she thought of him as much as he thought of her.

Sleep was a long time coming that night as he tried to work out how she had gotten away from the men that had attacked her. He soon gave up on this line of thought as there was no plausible scenario that was forthcoming. He rolled onto his back and lay for several hours staring at the canopy, but his mind in another house with a different person. Was he weighing as heavily on her mind as she was on his? Of course not, she wasn't the kind of woman that would even look twice at Connor, why would she ever think of him? He shut his eyes in an attempt to block out these intrusive thoughts that kept his mind from rest.

When he went to her house the next day, he found her asleep in her parlor curled up on the couch, a blanket covering her body and one of her many books on the floor beside her. He smiled and picked up the novel, putting it back on her floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelf. Rather than waking her, he decided to peruse her collection. One book caught his attention immediately: The History of the Rise and Fall of the Brotherhood: Volume 3. It wouldn't have been so unusual if the first two volumes had been residing near it. He gently tried to take it off the shelf, but it only came off halfway before the bookshelf swung away from him, revealing a set of stairs descending into a basement of sorts.

Connor had only seen the house started before he left more than a year ago and therefore hadn't known a basement had been built below the schoolteacher's home. He glanced back at the still slumbering Temperance, then descended the stairs quietly. When he turned at the bottom of the stairs, he saw a set of robes standing in the middle of a round room. The red and white as well as the symbol that was set in the middle of the belt marked them as Assassin robes. On the table to the left sat a small box that seemed to pull Connor toward it. He quietly opened it and saw the pair of blades that sat nestled in some old newspaper.

"What are you doing down here?" a voice asked from behind him. He turned to see Temperance at the foot of the stairs wearing her dressing gown and her golden hair falling in waves to just past her hips. "Why are you down here?"

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**Well? What do y'all think? Please R&amp;R...it makes me happy to see what y'all think.**

**You are all so, so amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come.**


	3. Chapter 2

I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but you can't rush perfection.

**A/N: I do not own anything except my OCs.**

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Chapter Two:

October 9, 1782

"I'm sorry, Temperance; I was trying to take one of your books off the shelf and the door swung open," Connor rushed to explain, the lid of the box he had been looking in suspiciously snapping shut.

"So you thought you should go through my things?" Temperance exclaimed shrilly, crossing the room to him. He took a quick step back, holding his hands up. She shook her head and pointed up the stairs. "Go back upstairs."

Temperance watched him trudge back up the stairs and followed him, closing the bookcase behind her. He turned to her, opening his mouth to defend himself, but she held up a hand impatiently and walked back into her room. She came back dressed quickly in her gray dress and stood in front of him, her arms crossed as best she could. The look she gave him was probably similar to the one she would give misbehaving pupils.

"Why didn't you tell me you were an Assassin?" he asked softly, his brows drawn down.

"I asked the code phrase, but you didn't respond correctly so I assumed I was incorrect thinking you might be an Assassin yourself," she responded, her frown more pronounced.

"Code phrase?"

"'Have I disturbed your private thoughts?' Had you responded by saying, 'Private thoughts aren't so easily disturbed,' I would have revealed myself, but you didn't."

"I was never informed of this 'code phrase' by the Master Assassin who trained me," Connor replied defensively, crossing his arms to mirror her.

"Perhaps a few traditions have been...overlooked in the colonies," she murmured, more to herself than him. "I'm sorry I didn't make you aware of my presence, but that doesn't excuse your snooping in my house."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have wandered without your permission. It was rude of me," he murmured, bowing slightly at the waist. "Will you forgive me?"

"I find I am too tired to stay angry at you, Connor," she said, a soft smile turning the corners of her pretty mouth. He imagined this was the smile she bestowed upon a few, select people and he internally basked in the light.

"I'm glad that I won't be scorned by the schoolteacher, then," he replied, smiling back at her. She looked down at the floor, attempting to hide what could only be a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Perhaps, instead, you could read to me? I seem to remember we were only halfway through the life of Miss Flanders?"

She nodded, walking over to the bookshelf and carefully retrieving the book. She settled herself on the couch, Connor beside her, but not quite touching. Her voice drifted through the still air, the words creating a picture of the young woman about which the selected volume spoke on. With each sentence, the pair on the couch seemed to move closer, not knowingly, but closer nonetheless; as though some unseen force was pulling their hearts toward each other.

Her lips were still forming the end of a sentence when his found them. At first neither seemed to know what to do, but then his hand was cradling her cheek and the book lay on the floors, abandoned. They separated for much needed air after a few moments, her cool, gray-blue eyes searching his warm, brown ones. There was no need for words, their eyes communicated so much more than they could ever articulate.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling away and walking toward the bookshelf, her back turned to him.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked softly, standing, but not walking toward her as though she were some easily spooked creature.

"That was terribly improper of me," she murmured, running a finger along the spines of her books. "What you must think of me now, I have no idea..."

"I think you are the kindest, strongest woman I have ever met," he soothed, taking a step toward her. "I think you have the most beautiful reading voice and the most caring eyes. These are the things I think of you, Temperance."

She turned slowly, biting her lower lip worriedly. Before either of them could speak again, there was a knock on the door. Temperance walked quickly toward it and opened it, revealing a blonde woman who was obviously pregnant. This newcomer threw her arms around Temperance, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ow! Leafy, that hurt!" Temperance yelped, pulling away from the woman and gingerly touching her shoulder.

"What have you done to your shoulder, Tempy? You know you sh-...oh! Who's this?" this woman called "Leafy" asked when she saw Connor.

"Leafy, this is Connor, Connor, this is Relief Jefferson, my older sister," Temperance sighed, stepping quickly out of the way as her sister rushed into the house and toward Connor.

"You're Connor, then, are you? Tempy's told me so much about you," Leafy exclaimed, glancing between the pair.

"Yes, I am," Connor replied, a little apprehensive about this loud woman who claimed relation to his quiet, docile Temperance. When did she become yours? a small voice asked in the back of his mind.

"Why don't you sit down, Leafy? You must be tired after your trip," Temperance interjected, taking her sister's arm and leading her toward the parlor. "You'll come back later, then, Connor?"

Her eyes begged him to answer in the affirmative, so he obliged, nodding once before leaving the small house, shaking his head. The two women's only shared characteristic was that they both had blonde hair, but Temperance's was more gold and shone like the sun while her sister's seemed dull in comparison. He felt a flush in his cheeks and took to the trees, going deep into the woods where he could think in private about all that had been revealed to him that morning. How strange that Temperance could change so completely in his mind in only a matter of hours. At least this new development explained the dispatching of the two men who had attempted to attack her the night before.

*Tempy*

"So that was your figmentary gentleman caller?" Leafy asked as she watched Connor walk away. "He is very handsome, my dear sister."

"Leafy!" Tempy exclaimed, feeling her cheeks flush darkly as she put the novel she had been reading to Connor back on the shelf. "You are married and shouldn't be saying such things."

"I can look so long as I don't touch," her older sister retorted, practically waddling over to the couch and sitting down slowly. "'Sides, I'm pregnant so I couldn't do much if I wanted to."

Tempy blushed darkly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Regardless of your current...physical state, you still shouldn't..."

Leafy rolled her eyes, patting the couch beside her. "Come now, little sister, and tell me what happened to your blasted shoulder."

Tempy told her sister everything, not leaving even a detail out. Since Leafy had married, she had been forced to hang up her robes until further notice in order to raise a family and Tempy knew how hard it had been for her wild, older sister to settle down to the married life. While Tempy had never been the one to constantly pick fights, nor find dangerous adventures to go on, she had played sidekick for long enough to know just how her sister wanted to hear the stories she was told.

"Why is it that you have more fun now that I'm married? It isn't fair a'tall!" Leafy sighed once Tempy finished retelling the events of last night.

"I doubt it has anything to do with you being married, Leafy," she soothed, placing a hand on her sister's. "Have you been to see Aunt Corrine and Uncle Oliver?"

"No, but I suppose I should, shouldn't I? And you won't go with me either, will ya? Too many people today?" Leafy asked, standing slowly, a hand on her large belly. Tempy nodded, walking with her sister to the door. "Well...don't expect me to forgive you."

"I love you, too, Leafy."

Leafy shook her head, leaving Tempy's house. Tempy watched her until she crested the hill, then she turned and walked down into her basement, putting a hand on her robes, almost able to see the memories she had made while wearing these robes, memories she had made with her older sister. Would she make the same kinds of memories with Connor? Even the thought made her blush as she turned away from her robes.

She crossed the room to the small, ornately carved, wooden box, opening it reverently. The pair of hidden blades which had been carefully placed in the newspapers brought forth more memories, less pleasant memories which prompted Tempy to snap the box shut again. She had always understood that the way of the Assassins was to kill their targets, but when she was fifteen and had to kill her first target, she had cried for a week. She remembered her sister coming home from her first kill, looking more than pleased about the blood staining her blades. When they were compared side-by-side, Leafy had always been the more willing and sloppy while Tempy was the more capable yet hesitant. The men who had raised the orphan sisters had never understood how two girls who looked so much alike could, in fact, be so very different.

She set the box down carefully, closing her eyes tightly against the flood of mental images, the faces of her targets burned into her mind's eyes. The last emotion they ever registered had been witnessed by a girl who now couldn't even look at her blades without being reduced to a trembling wretch. The blades were fastened onto her wrists without her even realizing what she was doing. How strange that now, after three and a half years without them, she felt so complete, so strong; she felt that she could do anything, the world was hers for the taking. Just as she was turning to walk back upstairs, the full weight of her past crashed through her, bringing her to her knees.

It wasn't just the killing, no, she had made peace with that a long time ago, it was that, until she put on her blades she had forgotten. All those lives she had taken, the last breaths she had stolen from throats, they had just become meaningless to her and it was the lives which should have been most prevalent in her thoughts everyday. How many families had she torn apart without even a second thought about them? Had she become what she had always sworn she would never? Had she become a machine that killed with no empathy or regard for the life she was stealing?

How long she stayed in the basement, the memories of every kill she had made playing in her mind's eye and storing itself where she would never forget it, she would never know, but when she finally reemerged in her living room, her blades back in their box, Connor was standing there awkwardly, shifting his feet uncomfortably. Tempy froze for a moment, then crossed the room and kissed him deeply, feeling his hands move to her hips just as her uninjured arm reached up, her hand resting on the back of his neck.

"What was that for?" Connor asked breathlessly, when they broke the kiss for air.

"I don't know," Tempy whispered honestly, her lips still tingling from the kiss. "It just felt right."

Connor cupped her cheek and smiled softly. Her eyes darted away from his, the look they shared getting too intimate for her. His lips on hers again wasn't entirely unexpected, but what followed and her willingness to follow him into her bedroom was for both parties.

"I didn't hurt your shoulder, did I?" Connor asked worriedly, one arm wrapped loosely about her naked waist.

Tempy blushed, shaking her head. "No, you didn't," she murmured, burying her incredibly red face in his shoulder.

She felt his hand tense slightly on her waist, making her look up. "Are you upset that we-"

"No, I'm not," she murmured, cutting him off. He looked her in the eye, searching for any doubt in her mind. She leaned up and kissed him gently. "Don't worry." He sighed softly, kissing her forehead. "Stay here tonight?"

"It would be preferable to that empty manor," he whispered back, his chin resting on top of her head. "You don't mind?"  
"Of course not," she murmured back, running a finger along his bare chest.

They slept wrapped in each other's warmth without a thought of what the next day, week, month, or even year would bring to them. Their only thoughts were of each other and how they could make the other as safe as possible. She found comfort in his strong arms wrapped around her, sheltering her from even her own thoughts and he found comfort in her reassuring warmth at his side as though her presence alone was enough to still all thoughts in his mind.

They shared a bed from then on, unable to spend even one night apart. However, they kept their involvement a secret from those in their community as they weren't quite ready for anyone to know yet. This was especially hard to achieve when Tempy had to leave the manor to get to the school without anyone seeing her in yesterday's clothes scurrying to her home to change. No one ever saw and it was probably the thrill of getting caught that truly kept the couple from telling their secret.

**January 24, 1783**

"Do you have to go?" Tempy asked quietly, clinging to Connor in the pre-dawn light.

"I do, Temperance. It will only be a few months," Connor soothed, kissing her forehead as he untangled himself from her. "I'll be back in June."

Tempy sat up in his bed, making a most pitiful face as she watched him dress. "That's six months, Connor..." she murmured, holding the blanket up to her chest.

"If I didn't have to go, Temperance, I wouldn't. I will be back before you know it," he said, kissing her gently when he was fully clothed. "Goodbye for now."

Tempy watched him leave the room then watched from the window as he walked to the docks. She sighed, letting the sheet drop from around her shoulders and rubbing the small swell of her belly. "Don't worry, little one...Daddy will come home," she whispered into the dark before turning away from the window and dressing to go back to her own home.

As the life within her womb grew and it became obvious that she was in the family way, the villagers speculated that it had been one of the two men that attacked her in the schoolhouse that fathered the child. None were even suspicious of the "Master of the Manor's" having had anything to do with the "deflowering" of the schoolmarm and none asked Tempy about the should have been happy occasion. Only Leafy knew the identity of the father and she was in no hurry to tell anyone.

Tempy knew that the moment the babe was borne, all would take on look and no that no white man was the sire. She knew she should be worried, but why worry when there were more important things to be done in readying her home for this new life. She spent more time talking to and thinking about her child than any soul out of her body.

As May reached its peak, she would stand on the docks everyday, watching for the _Aquilla_, praying for the day it arrived, bringing with it her love and the father of her unborn child. It was her greatest desire that he be home before the labor pangs began, but she knew in her heart of hearts that this wish would not come true.

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**Well? What do y'all think? Please R&amp;R...it makes me happy to see what y'all think.**

**You are all so, so amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come.**


	4. Ten Facts about Temperance

Okay, so, I couldn't get the chapter to be what I wanted yet, so I decided to give you guys a few trivia facts about a few of my OCs in between chapters from here on out.

**A/N: I do not own anything except my OCs.**

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Ten Facts About Temperance You May Not Have Caught

1\. Temperance and Relief don't actually know their parents: Temperance alluded that she was basically raised by Assassins, but never that they were her parents.

2\. Oliver and Connie are not Temperance's real Uncle and Aunt: if this was only caught after Temperance talks about being raised by Assassins, you missed the clues laid down in the first chapter. Go back and re-read it, you will see that Temperance didn't seem to regard them as family and for sure Relief didn't in the most recent chapter.

3\. Temperance reads erotica on her downtime: this may have been hard to catch unless you've read The Adventures of Moll Flanders. While the previously mentioned story itself is not erotica, it is a gateway to erotica.

4\. Temperance did not learn how to read until she was fifteen: again, this was hard to catch because she talks like she has been reading her whole life, but it is alluded that her older sister, Relief, can't read.

5\. Temperance was not raised in colonial America: this should have been caught in the last chapter when she spoke down about the Assassins in the colonies.

6\. Despite where she was raised, Temperance has since lost her accent for the most part: Connor never compares her way of speaking to his father's even though her accent would be similar to Haytham's.

7\. Connor wasn't Temperance's first even though she was his: Connor was nervous while Temperance was self-assured after their first encounter.

8\. Temperance didn't just kill for the Brotherhood: I would go into detail, but that would be a spoiler.

9\. Temperance has been pregnant before: She knew that she shouldn't tell Connor about her condition until she was further along which is why he left without knowing about the baby.

10\. Temperance has probably given birth before at least twice, once by a white man and once by a colored man of some sort: she knew that her baby's father would be known the moment it was born.

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**Well? What do y'all think? Please R&amp;R...it makes me happy to see what y'all think.**

**You are all so, so amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come.**


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